


a little time we can borrow

by kitschvanitas



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ember Island (Avatar), Fluff, Gen, Kidfic, M/M, Minor Aang/Katara, Vacation, canon has been dismantled and mined for parts, i tried to figure out the exact like timeline of when kids were born and then i, just children everywhere, just me being fluffy and maudlin, remembered i literally do not care, some of the other Gaang kids are also here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-15 04:00:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28806963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitschvanitas/pseuds/kitschvanitas
Summary: a series of loosely connected ficlets of Sokka, Zuko, and Izumi on Ember Island.
Relationships: Izumi & Sokka (Avatar), Izumi & Zuko (Avatar), Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 16
Kudos: 88





	a little time we can borrow

**Author's Note:**

> this is the only thing my brain allows me to write anymore. just shameless fluff for days.
> 
> also, this is sort of a companion piece to my other fic, "something comforting," but you absolutely don't need to read it to understand this.

Bumi is two years old, and Zuko thinks he may be the loudest child who has ever lived. Zuko is absolutely certain that he hasn't stopped moving since Appa landed on the sand at Ember Island. The kid sees Sokka and bolts for him, arms outstretched. The two of them take off down the beach, laughing loud enough to frighten off the toucan puffins in a brightly colored whirl. 

“Where are they going?” 

Zuko lifts his shoulders in a half hearted shrug, holding out a hand to help Katara down from Appa, “I don't really know? He kept talking about taking him spearfishing, but I'm... almost sure he was joking.” 

Katara raises an eyebrow. “I feel like ‘almost’ is doing a lot of work there.” 

Before Zuko can answer, Aang is pulling him into a bone crushing hug, almost lifting him up off the ground. “Zuko! It's so good to see you!” 

“It's good to see you too,” he answers, a little out of breath. Once Aang releases him, Katara has her arms held out to him too, and it's up to Zuko to figure out to hug her without disturbing the baby wrapped on her chest. He doesn't succeed, and little Kya is soon squalling in her arms. Zuko steps back, his palms up guiltily. “Sorry, sorry--” 

Katara shakes her head, smiling at Zuko. “Don't worry about it. It's been a long trip.” 

“Do you... want to come inside? We have food inside, and I can show you your room. And I made a little paddock for Appa, with hay and... and stuff..” This should be so much easier than the endless formality of life at court, but instead, he finds himself hopelessly tangled in his own words. 

“That sounds great, Zuko.” 

“Lead the way,” Aang crows, with all the energy he had at twelve years old and then some. Appa glides behind them, and he manages to find the way to his paddock without any guidance at all. 

Once they've escaped into the cool shade of the beach house, Kya starts to quiet down, much to Zuko's relief. Maybe he hasn't ruined her day after all. 

The small talk over the platters of fresh fruit and kuzumochi comes far more easily, and Zuko feels like he can finally relax, even as he gets caught up in a lively conversation on the latest in Ba Sing Se politics with Katara. 

“Have you ever considered becoming an ambassador, Katara?” 

She snorts into her glass of water. “Not on your life, Fire Lord.” 

“You'd be good at it!” 

“No thank you.” 

Aang yawns loud enough for his jaw to crack, and he holds out his arms for Kya. “I think it's time for a nap, don't you?” The baby blows a tiny spit bubble in response, and Zuko watches in mild horror as it pops and trickles down her chin. Aang doesn't seem fazed at all, tucking her in his arms. “Yep, that means we're tired. Doesn't it, Kya?” 

Katara leans down to kiss each of them before Aang retreats to the guest bedroom. The quiet that settles in the house just then is strange, but easy. Zuko stretches out on the floor, resting his face in his arms. He feels like he could doze off too, lazing like a cat in the summer heat. 

That quiet is shattered by Sokka's voice. “Red alert, red alert! We have a _medical emergency_!” 

Katara and Zuko are on their feet at once, Katara's hand going to the pouch at her hip. “Sokka, what's wrong?” 

“What happened?” 

Sokka brandishes Bumi. The little boy’s face is red and tear streaked, and Zuko can see a nasty scrape on his right knee. “What part of ‘medical emergency’ don't you understand?” 

Katara bends the water out of the pouch, and it arcs gracefully over to Bumi’s knee, gliding over the wound until it closes. “What happened,” she repeats, smoothing a hand over Bumi's chubby cheek. 

“We had a slight disagreement with some turtle crabs.” 

“I fell down,” Bumi says, his lip trembling again. 

“See, that's why you shouldn't follow your uncle everywhere. He’ll get you into trouble.” 

Sokka gasps, a hand pressed to his chest in a gesture of theatrical hurt. “Me? Get someone in trouble? I never...” 

Katara and Zuko both level Sokka with flat, unblinking stares until he raises his hand in surrender. Bumi giggles and squirms down from his uncle's grip into his mother's arms. Zuko can't hold back a smile at that, and he starts peeling and slicing some of Sokka's favorite fruits for him. 

Katara offers Bumi the orange she's just finished peeling. “As long as that's the only injury of the trip, I think we'll be okay.” 

Sokka points at his sister with an equally exaggerated grin and wink. “Hey, Toph doesn't get here for another two days. I wouldn't count on that.” 

He barely manages to dodge the miniature water whip his sister aims at him. “Rude. Your mom is rude, Bumi.” 

“She takes after her big brother,” Katara says with a smirk, as her son sticks his tongue out at Sokka. 

Zuko shakes his head, biting his lip to hold back a smile. “The family resemblance is really uncanny sometimes.” 

“I'm leaving. I'm taking my own vacation, without any of you,” Sokka grouses, even as he settles down beside Zuko, leaning over to kiss his cheek. 

* * *

Katara and Aang take Kya up to bed a few hours after dinner, leaving Bumi to sit around the bonfire with Zuko and Sokka. Zuko gets up to add some more driftwood to the fire, carefully stoking the flames. The crackle of the fire is low and dull, and Zuko can see Bumi slowly melting into Sokka's arms. 

He can hear Sokka’s voice, gentle and warm. “Hey, little buddy.” 

Bumi's reply is more of a sleepy, contented grunt than it is actual words. 

“How's your knee doing? You didn't get hurt too bad, right?” 

This time, Zuko can't really hear the reply at all, just the rustle of the blanket Bumi is wrapped in. He does hear Sokka's soft, warm laugh, though. “Yeah. I'll be more careful next time. You sleepy, Bumi?” 

“Nuh uh,” the little boy mumbles, and when Zuko turns around, Bumi is trying valiantly to open his eyes again, even propping his chin on his hands. 

“Zuko, this look like a sleepy kid to you?” 

Zuko settles on the other end of the blanket, brow furrowed as he tries to figure what the right answer is here. “... maybe?” 

Unfortunately, this answer satisfies neither of them. Sokka rolls his eyes, and Bumi scowls. “‘M not _tired_!” 

Sokka scoops him up in his arms, rocking him back and forth like the baby he insists he isn't. “Oh, of _course_ not! You're not tired! You've never even _been_ tired, have you, Bumi, never slept a minute in your life...” 

The boy squirms again, but he makes no real effort to escape from Sokka. Instead, he stares at Zuko-- or tries to, at least, as his eyes drift shut. It isn't long before he's snoring faintly in Sokka's arms. 

After a few minutes, Sokka carefully gets to his feet, still holding Bumi. “Okay, I'm gonna return this one to Aang and Katara. I'll be right back.” 

“Good luck. Try not to get in any more fights with turtle crabs.” 

“Tidal pools are the other way. And you're _rude_.” 

Zuko laughs and stretches out on the blanket, closing his eyes and breathing in and out with the surf. He can't get the image of Sokka rocking Bumi to sleep out of his mind. 

* * *

The gatherings at Ember Island grow every year. Aang and Katara arrive this year with three children in tow-- Bumi is five, and Kya is almost three, with baby Tenzin bundled on his father's chest. Iroh arrives on Toph's boat, where he's spent the entire voyage doting on Lin. 

Zuko feels like he's gotten no better at handling the kids than he was when Bumi was still mostly stationary. Which wouldn't be a problem, except... except... 

He _wants_ to get better at it, is the thing. He's tried a lot of things, up to and including making a lot of increasingly awkward and embarrassing inquiries at the Caldera City archives. 

Sokka has Kya on one arm and Bumi on the other, curling his arms up with exaggerated strain and effort. “Katara, what's your game, making a bunch of powerful kids?” 

The kids shriek with laughter, but Katara doesn't look up from the scrolls she's studying. “To torment you, personally and specifically.” 

“I knew it. It's all a conspiracy,” Sokka mutters, dropping down to the sand, his arms hooked around Bumi and Kya. “Get her toes,” he hisses, and the two of them scamper fearsomely towards Katara. Her gentle water whips do very little to deter them. “I'm the king of the world!” Bumi hollers, before tackling her. 

Sokka flops down to rest his head on Zuko's lap. “That'll keep em busy for a while. Whatcha reading?” 

Zuko quickly stows his copy of _Parenting Wisdom From the Four Nations_ in the picnic basket. “Nothing. Nothing.” 

Sokka raises an eyebrow, but he doesn't go for the basket. He’s always willing to allow Zuko to keep his secrets until he's ready to unwind them himself. No matter how large they feel. 

Zuko smiles and adjusts Sokka's wolf tail where it's starting to come undone. This one, at least, doesn't feel too heavy. 

“Nephew! Nephew, look!” 

Both of them turn their heads, and Zuko can't help the smile blooming on his face. It can't be half as bright as the one his uncle bears. He's got baby Lin wrapped up on his chest in bright green and gold fabric, probably repurposed from somewhere in the house, in a slightly clumsier version of the wraps Katara and Aang use. “Aang was kind enough to show me how to do this. Lin has been sleeping so peacefully,” he says, stroking a hand over her soft, dark hair. He sounds so proud of himself that Zuko doesn't have the heart to point out that Lin is, in fact, looking directly at both of them, her dark green eyes quietly observant. She seems content, at least. 

“That's great, Uncle.” 

He beams at the two of them, carefully settling down in an open space on their blanket. Without being prompted, Sokka scoots over to make room. Once he's almost rolled over onto the sand, he looks up at Zuko. “Wanna go for a swim?” 

Zuko smiles and nods, shrugging out of his shirt and folding it neatly on top of the picnic basket. Sokka gets to his feet first and holds out a hand to help him to his feet. 

The water is warm and clear, and as they make their way out to deeper water, Zuko can see the white sand giving way to brightly colored coral, like a city under the waves. 

Sokka stops and starts treading water, looking back towards the shore. Zuko follows his gaze. Toph has emerged from the house to start the day, and she's taken Lin back, lifting her up over her on the blanket. Instead, Iroh has Bumi and Kya on his lap, and although it's impossible to really tell at this distance, Zuko is absolutely sure that he's smiling and telling a story. 

Sokka is smiling to himself. “That's a man who's ready to be a grandpa.” 

Zuko's heart stutters in his chest. “W-- what?” 

“I mean, look at him. He's been training for it. I bet he studies for it.” 

“I think Uncle Iroh was born good at this kind of thing.” 

“Hey, being a natural doesn't mean you don't keep up with the literature. And that is a man who subscribes to _Grandpa Studies Quarterly_.” 

Zuko lets out a flustered laugh, hiding his face in his hands. Sokka splashes him, then winds his arms around his waist in the water. “Hey, don't knock _GSQ_! That’s peer reviewed!” 

“I'm sure it is.” 

“There's nowhere else I’d trust for the latest in grandparenting.” Sokka presses a kiss to Zuko’s cheek as if he isn't slightly sunburned and covered in sea water. He always kisses Zuko like there's nothing he'd rather be doing, and every time he does it, Zuko feels his body light up with something almost too bright to name. 

“I mean... we could do that, you know.” 

Zuko freezes. “What,” he breathes more than he says, his voice so quiet that the sea almost swallows the sound completely. 

“If you wanted, I mean,” Sokka continues, twining their fingers together again. 

Zuko's heart is going hummingbird quick in his chest, and he almost chokes on seawater somehow trying to take a deep, steadying breath. 

“You okay, sweetheart?” 

“I... you want to? With me?” 

Sokka makes a face, like Zuko has asked an unfathomably silly question. “Yeah, with you. Duh.” 

* * *

There's always a million little things to do when they open the house at Ember Island, and Zuko likes to take care of as many of them himself as he can. It’s a good opportunity to be alone and prepare for the vacation ahead. After laying an extra comforter out in Uncle Iroh’s room (the man still manages to get cold even in an Ember Island summer), he goes out to the veranda and watches the tide roll in with his uncle, sitting in companionable silence together. 

As the sun sinks down into the sea for the evening, Uncle Iroh yawns and stretches. “I believe it's time for me to head to bed. Toph said she and Lin would be arriving early tomorrow.” 

“I'm surprised you didn't come down with them, like you usually do.” 

Iroh scoffs, resting a hand on Zuko’s shoulder. “And miss a day with my nephew and his beautiful family? No, I couldn't possibly.” 

Zuko smiles and gets up from his own chair. “Good night, Uncle.” He takes one last lungful of the sea air before he walks back to the rooms he shares with Sokka and Izumi. 

The first thing Zuko notices is the sound of water splashing. He undoes his robe and sets it aside in one of their trunks, where it will stay until it's time to return to the Caldera. He leaves the light, plain tunic underneath and follows the sound as it's joined by the low murmur of Sokka's voice. 

“So after your bath-- yeah, your favorite! That's exciting! When Dad gets back, we're gonna show him your cool new trick, and then we're gonna read a story, and then you're gonna hold up your end of the bargain and sleep through the night! You've earned it, you had a busy day. You got to visit Grandpa Iroh, we saw the turtle ducks, you helped me in my workshop... that's a full schedule! Don't look at me like that, you need rest. Gotta grow that giant brain.” 

As Zuko rounds the corner, he sees Sokka, sitting on the floor, with Izumi in a little round ceramic tub. He continues to talk away as he pours water over her. She lets out a little squeak and kicks one of her feet in the water, splashing her father in the face. 

Sokka laughs and shakes his head, splashing her back. “Oh, you think that's funny? You think that's really funny? You're a funny kid?” he says, grinning as he lifts her up out of the tub and dries her off. Zuko is in awe as Sokka deftly wraps her up in a blanket, with the kind of practiced tenderness that makes Zuko feel like he's swallowed the sun. Izumi starts to fuss, and Sokka sighs, untucking her arms from the swaddle. “Sorry, sorry, I know you hate that. Gotta have your arms free to do crimes.” 

He gets up off the ground and turns, smiling at Zuko. “Just the man I was looking for.” 

Zuko smiles and presses a kiss to Sokka's cheek. “Hi,” he murmurs, kissing Izumi’s forehead. She stares at him, like she always does, then grabs a fistful of his hair. 

“Hey, hey, leave Dad’s hair alone--” 

“She's fine,” Zuko says with a laugh, smiling down at his daughter. He stays where he is until she smiles back and lets go. 

“Okay, we have something to show you,” Sokka says, adjusting Izumi in his arms. “Don't look at me, look at her. Hey, hey, Izumi?” 

Zuko knows he's meant to look at Izumi, but he can't help but stare at Sokka. Even when he contorts his face into a truly absurd expression, eyes crossed, tongue lolling out of his mouth. Zuko lets out a single confused giggle, and Izumi continues to smile at both of them. 

Sokka scowls down at her for a moment, then pulls another face. “Come on, this worked earlier-- you really wanna make a liar out of your pops?” 

His husband tries a third face, but to no avail. Then suddenly, he's pulling a regular grimace, abruptly pushing Izumi into Zuko's arms. “What's wrong, Sokka?” 

“I think a bug flew in my mouth,” Sokka mutters, scrambling around on the low table behind them for a cup of water. He pounds it all at once and turns back to Izumi and Zuko, grimacing again. 

And Izumi... Izumi laughs, a sweet, delighted sound, one that Zuko wishes he could bottle up forever and keep close to his heart. Sokka gasps and makes the face again, and she only laughs louder, especially when Sokka tickles under her chin. “This is the cool new thing we learned today! We learned that Pops is _funny_! Right, ‘Zumi?” 

Her giggles have mostly calmed, but she still smiles at him so bright and warm. “Okay, great. Now that you're all wound up, let's finish getting ready for bed. You've got like, a hundred cousins coming to visit tomorrow, you're gonna need all the sleep you can get.” 

The three of them settle down on their bed, and Sokka hands over the book of Air Nomad folktales to Zuko before settling Izumi in his arms. Zuko reads to both of them, his voice soft and gentle. “ _‘And that, of course, was just the beginning_.’” 

He looks up and sees Izumi sleeping in Sokka's arms. Without a word, Sokka gets up and carefully sets her in the bassinet he hung from the ceiling, pushing it just enough to start it swinging. 

“I think that's her favorite one,” Sokka murmurs, pulling Zuko close against his chest. 

“Yeah?” “I mean, I like all of them. But that one's her favorite.” 

* * *

Sitting for the family portrait is not... exactly the sort of disaster that Zuko had imagined. Sokka, for one, looks incredible in his formal blue Water Tribe robes, and Izumi sits quietly on his lap, draped in red and blue, staring around at the people milling about in the room. Zuko tousles the two year old’s curly dark hair, and she smiles at him, the way that never fails to make Zuko smile back. And it helps that they're sitting for it on Ember Island. 

At least, that was the theory. 

For the first hour, all is well. The room is quiet, and Izumi settles against Zuko's chest, occasionally babbling to herself. Then the heat of the day starts to creep and settle in the room, and Zuko can feel sweat trickling down his neck, creeping along his spine between the heavy robes. 

When the air is suffocatingly hot and still, Izumi starts to squirm around, pulling at the fabric of her tunic. “Shhh, just a few more minutes, Izumi, then we can take a break,” he says, petting her hair again. But Izumi leans away from his touch, shaking her head furiously. “Down!” 

“We're almost done--” 

“Down!” With that, Izumi fights her way down, clumsily trying to get out of her formal dress. Her little fingers can't quite manage the delicate frog closures, and she lets out a frustrated wail before collapsing on the floor. 

His face flushed with the heat and embarrassment, Zuko gets up from his chair. He tries to pick Izumi up, but suddenly, the little girl he can normally lift with ease is as dense as lead. “Izumi--” he starts to say, before their daughter cuts him off with an ear piercing shriek. 

Sokka's hand is on his shoulder. “Zuko, let go. I've got this.” 

Zuko straightens up, his hands at his ears as Izumi continues to sob. He backs away, ready to dismiss the artist they're working with, but she's already gone. So Zuko sits down on the floor a few feet away, watching them. 

He expects Sokka to try and pick her up. But he doesn't. Instead, he sits down on the floor beside her, shrugging out of his heavy robes. “Do you want help, Izumi?” 

The little girl sits up and shakes her head, but she kicks her feet on the floor in frustration when she still can't manage the little loops. Sokka nods. “I know, those things are _hard_! Your dad used to have to help me with those when I first came here. It seems like you're kind of hot and cranky. Are you sure I can't help you?” 

“No!” 

“Can I try?” 

Izumi looks up at him, lower lip trembling. Then she nods, sniffling as she scoots closer. Sokka leans down and undoes the closure, lifting the formal dress up and leaving the light tunic and leggings underneath. “There we go? Is that better?” 

“... yeah.” 

“I'm tired of being in here. How about you?” 

“Hot!” 

“Yeah, I agree! Too hot! What about you, Dad?” 

Zuko sighs and takes out his hairpiece. His formal robes follow, and both Sokka and Izumi cheer. Sokka beckons him closer, and Izumi giggles from under his arm, as if her face isn't still streaked with tears. Zuko crawls over toward them, leaning in to hear Sokka's conspiratorial whisper. 

“So here's the plan. We're gonna sneak down to the beach, quick, before our painter friend comes back.” 

Zuko nods, trying to look as serious as Sokka does and failing utterly. 

“Dad, you're gonna go out that window first. Then I'll pass you down, Izumi. I'll go last. You know, in case I have to get in a paint fight.” 

“A paint fight?” Zuko says, eyebrow arched up. 

“It's a real thing. Definitely happens. Okay, are we ready?” 

“Yeah!” Izumi shouts. She's still not quite a hundred percent on the concept of stealth, but she does her best to follow her parents in an exaggerated creep towards the window. She claps in delight when Zuko makes the short drop down to the flower beds and holds his arms up for her. 

The two of them wait for a moment for Sokka to join them. He lingers at the window, and Zuko can see him shouting to the bemused artist. “You'll never take me alive!” 

He vaults out of the window with style and takes off running, Zuko's hand in his. All three of them are laughing by the time they make it down to the water. 

It's the sketch of all three of them running to the beach that the artist presents for Sokka and Zuko's approval. 

Sokka hangs it in pride of place over his workbench.


End file.
